


I'll Bring My Sharpened Pencils, You Take Your Empty Bottles

by sobsister



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-17
Updated: 2010-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:05:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsister/pseuds/sobsister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The whole point of High School is that you leave it. But first, Lisa Simpson went to Prom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Bring My Sharpened Pencils, You Take Your Empty Bottles

Lisa loses it, as they say, to star quarterback Nelson Muntz on the grass outside their high school, the night of the Prom. She's a little proud of accomplishing a cliché beyond 'smart girl wears braces'. She and Nelson have this mutual respect thing going on, ever since they went out as kids and she saw his Nuke the Whales poster, and his mother. They're not really friends, but every once and a while they end up next to each other, rolling their eyes and being rude. She knows deep down she's a good girl, but sometimes it's nice to talk to someone who isn't shocked every time she swears.

Once in 10th grade, while Lisa was doing extra credit lab work for biology, she found Nelson hiding in the science room supply closet after a nasty and public break-up with Terri (He claimed he wasn't hiding, but all evidence pointed against, and Lisa was a scientist first and foremost. She'd already learned her lesson on believing Nelson Muntz). She told him which chemicals would have the most interesting results if someone were to, theoretically, switch their labels, and asked him why Terri broke up with him.

"Aw crap, that was Terri?" said Nelson, peeling the name off a jar of magnesium, "No wonder she was pissed." Lisa thought he was joking, but sometimes she wondered.

Sherri or Terri, it doesn't seem to matter much, even at Prom, since Nelson ends up alone at a corner table, drinking from a flask and stretching his long legs out to trip Uter every time he waltzes (literally waltzes) by. As President of the Springfield Secondary School Student Government, Lisa probably should tell the chaperones, but Mr. Van Houten seemed busy hitting on a (married) math teacher, and Chief Wiggum was trying to unhand-cuff Ralph from the DJ's turntable. Instead, she sits down in the chair he kicks towards her, and takes a swig when he offers, and then another just to see Milhouse's eyes widen from across the room.

"This sucks," Nelson says as Uter picks himself up off the gym floor and happily throws himself back onto the dance floor. His jacket's slung over the back of his chair already, and it's completely unlikely he combed his hair at all. But he's traded his blue vest in for a brown one and she's strangely fascinated by his half rolled up shirt sleeves.

They end up in the field outside the school, under the bleachers, sharing whatever liquor Nelson'd smuggled past Ms. Bloomenstein ('Feels weird sneaking this stuff out,' he grunts on the way through the emergency exit. She doesn't bother telling him she already saw him spike the punch). It's weird how much it reminds her of Springfield Elementary here, with the unfortunate addition of hideous green columns, but it seems like that's what happens when you hire the same contractors. Hundreds of kids pass through the doors, complete their grades, move on up to the next level, and never feel like they're going anywhere. Even the Principal reminds her of Skinner. It's sort of depressing, so she listens to Nelson rag on the twins instead of thinking.

"They totally look stacked too," he's saying, "but once you get a hand up there it's like half padding. False advertising, man." Lisa can't resist the urge to look at her own less than impressive chest, snug in her first strapless bra, under her first floor-length dress. Nelson catches the glance, and looks mortified. Lisa lets herself look hurt, and he's scrambling up onto his knees, muttering apologies, when she looks up and points with one finger.

"Ha Ha," she says, smirking. It didn't take long to figure out Nelson's got a weirdly solicitous streak when it comes to her and her Mom, and there's no way she's not using that. It's too easy. Nelson glares and flops down next to her on the grass. His vest is going to have grass stains in the morning; her dress too. They lie companionably, quietly, flat on their backs just inches from each other.

"I think your bitty titties are hot" says Nelson suddenly, staring up at the seats above them. If she were eight, she would be horrified and heartbroken, and at 12 righteously offended. At 17, she just snorts, decides to take that as the compliment it's intended to be. Lisa loves her mother, even admires her sometimes, but she swore she wouldn't ever get sucked into thinking she could change a man. That's another lesson she's learned, from Nelson and from her Dad.

"Thanks, yours too," she says brightly, and collapses into snorting laughter. Nelson turns on his side to watch her laugh, one hand supporting his head.

"You're wasted," he says, stretching out the ay sound. Her head does feel a lot bigger than it did when the night started, like what's inside can't fit inside her skull. Maybe she's so smart her brain's expanded.

His other hand is on her leg, bunching up her skirt, and Lisa stops laughing. She lies there for a bit, listening to her own breathing, too loud, feeling the world spin, letting herself catch up. She can't help it when she licks her lips, and her mouth's gone dry. She just watches Nelson's face, watches his eyes. He looks weird, and sort of ugly, his mouth open and his eyes wide. She doesn't blink when his hand starts sliding up her leg, under the slip her Mom insisted on, and neither does he.

She's trying to be cool, trying not to breathe too hard, let what she's feeling show on her face. She probably looks weird to him too. The air's sort of chilly on the bare skin of her thigh, and she thinks she probably has goose bumps. When he kisses her, Lisa can't help but think of the first time at the observatory. Under the bleachers, she can't see the stars. She keeps her eyes wide open, and knows she'll get out of this town.


End file.
